


You hate knowing why

by Aondeug



Category: Force of Will (Card Game)
Genre: F/F, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 20:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12614896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Fiethsing is a strange woman. One prone to wandering off, leaving Zero to wonder where she's gone off to. To think knowing why she was gone would be so much worse is odd. But knowledge is cold and cruel. A poem looking at Zero's relationship with Fiethsing and upon her death.





	You hate knowing why

Your bed is empty  
Save for you,  
Though your home isn’t.  
The others hide away,  
Especially that one  
Who is all clothes and vanity.  
Even your familiar keeps out.  
He knows better, after all.  
It’s just too messy,  
All those feathers and more  
Strewn about your bed.  
So you keep him out  
As you do everyone else.  
You’re not sure why this is  
Nor do you care.  
There are books to read.  
There are stones to spy.  
There are spells to chant,  
And that’s that.  
  
Your bed is empty  
Save for you,  
Though it was shared last night.  
A laugh and a poke  
All with a wistful smile  
And damned elf smoke  
While you rolled your eyes.  
That’s all it took  
For her to wander right on in  
To your bed.  
You’re not sure why this is  
Until you look up  
To see her floating  
Still unclothed and poking through  
An old tome of yours.  
Then you know why  
Your bed is empty.  
Then you know why  
Your bed was shared.  
  
Your bed is empty  
Save for you  
As you look across  
At where she’d been.  
The blanket is thrown back  
And your sheet is tossed about  
\-- where is the pillow?  
It’s a familiar sight by now,  
And you’re not sure why this is,  
Why it’s just you  
till later in the day.  
While you’re reading  
Is when you find it,  
A small note  
In her dreadful hand.  
It’s not terribly enlightening,  
Not really.  
But at least you know she’s wandering.  
   
Your bed is not empty  
Because your daughter is there  
Clinging to the bed things  
As she is sprawled out.  
That woman is gone though.  
You’re not sure why this is  
But you shrug it off  
With a loving scoff  
Because deep down you’re sure  
That’s she fine as can be.  
A whimsical wanderer  
Clad in green  
With a magic monocle,  
Always searching but never lost.  
She’ll find her way back.  
  
Your bed is empty  
Save for you.  
Not even your daughter is there.  
Not even a cat  
Or a rabbit  
Or an owl  
And most certainly not her,  
Not that woman.  
You know why this is  
Yet you still look up  
Feeling so sure  
That you’ll see her there  
Reclining in the air,  
And you still look in your books  
Checking each page  
For a note from her  
Though you know it’s stupid,  
And you still look at your sheets  
Finding it dizzying  
To not see your things tossed about  
And a pillow missing.  
She is not there,  
Not even a hint of her  
And you know the hurt at last  
Of knowing why this is.  
Of knowing why  
Your bed is empty.  
   
You wish you didn’t.


End file.
